


The Natural Order

by wickedrum



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Happy Ending, Snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23070985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedrum/pseuds/wickedrum
Summary: Set: In the Season 2 Finale, ‘Blood’, Mareth doesn’t believe there isn’t another way to cleanse the waters but for Wil to sacrifice himself. AU from there as a sort of ending to the series, something we never got.
Relationships: Mareth/Wil Ohmsford
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Natural Order

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: I barely own my knickers. When I am writing, it's foremost for my own pleasure.

Wil’s body disappeared from Mareth’s sight in a display of a blinding light that was rapidly cleansing the waters as far as she could see and for one moment, the druid did let herself believe that the feat had been done with Wil’s sacrifice of life. She was waiting for the weight of the loss to hit her, but it wasn’t coming and in that instant, she knew, she felt that he must still be alive. It was his blood that was needed, not his life and now it would depend on her quick actions whether he lived or died. So without any further thought she jumped into the well, pushing through the water till she reached the bottom. Wil wasn’t there, not at first sight, but she reached out with her magic and felt him without seeing, just an arm length away. The descendant of elves wasn’t heavy, however it still felt to Mareth as if it would have taken an eternity till she pulled him up and managed to get him out the water, precious time he spent unconscious. Wasting no more time, she pulled out the blue elfstones she had in her possession now after Wil gave them over freely and placed them on the young man’s extensive entry wound. Instinct took over with the stones too. Their primary use might not have been healing and she might not have been an experienced user of them, but the elven blood in her being found a way easily to light up a path to what she was seeking. She calmed herself forcibly and imagined his body whole, his shy smile brightening his eyes. 

The blue light lit up the temple again and Wil cried out as healing was just as painful as having the wound inflicted had been. “You’re alive,” Mareth panted with maddened relief and also with the exhaustion of having used the stones and let herself fold on the top of him, covering his lips with her own in glee this time.

“What happened? What did you do! Why!” The blond pushed her back in alarm and rolled to his side towards the well with a groan, his insides still apparently in the middle of healing, “the waters!”

“The waters are fine, they are not red anymore and it’s spreading out in every direction. You did it, you did heal the Four Lands!” Mareth reached for his jaw to comfort him again, make him focus on her, ground him.

“Are you sure?” It was too good to believe. He struggled to get on his knees to peep over the stone railings, “help me up,” he insisted, ignoring the searing pain and the overwhelming nausea of further healing, “all the way!”

“Yes, I am sure! I looked out before I made the decision to jump in for you. I’m not a dunce, you know,” she frowned. Their relationship might have come a long way, but he sometimes still acted like he was the only one with great magical knowledge. She understood however that he needed to see it for himself and acted as support to lean on as he shakily got his legs under himself, needing a steadying breath before he could straighten up and take in the watery horizon, his mind steps ahead of his body.

But Wil Ohmsford was smiling back now, “that I know of.” Feeling a little guilty for having pushed her away and having doubted her earlier and now eager to celebrate, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss, one hungry and far from as innocent as their previous ones were. The tension of the world’s fate hanging on their shoulders gone, he could give in to desires and inclinations and the merriness. He knew he should have cared which one of those this passion bubbling out of him was representing, at least for the Druid’s sake, but right at this point in time, it was too much to ask for from a young man who had just virtually sacrificed his life for the good of their people. Besides, there were butterflies in his stomach that had nothing to do with the healing process. Those meant something and he already sensed the truth. It had been foretold after all. 

A Druid and a Shannara. Together. 

The End.


End file.
